Curses Break Slowly
by Andi88
Summary: A day in the life of cursed Mary Margaret Blanchard – which happens to the day Emma Swan comes to town. My thoughts on what life was like for MM before Emma arrived, and how the curse began to slowly break the moment they met. Just a bit of drabble to ease the strain of waiting for season 3. :)


"Goodbye, Emma…"

The baby swaddled in her arms was crying softly, somehow sensing that she was about to be separated from her mother.

Everything seemed blurry, out of focus, all except for the baby's face. She could see that face so clearly, yet the sight of it made her ache so badly.

"Goodbye, Emma…" she whispered again, and the child vanished from her arms. Immediately she felt an emptiness so strong it was like a solid, living thing, tearing at her heart. She knew that nothing, nothing would assuage that emptiness, that ache, except for the return of that beautiful baby girl.

She cried bitterly, her arms outstretched, but then the room was warping, twisting and suddenly she was somewhere else. A dark, ominous room engulfed in flames.

She cried out for help, cried out for her baby, cried out for something she couldn't even name. But the flames licked her skin and she shrieked in agony.

Just when she was ready to lie down and let the fire take her, a bright, blinding light shone in the darkness, banishing the black and the fire at once. There was a person standing there. She couldn't really see them, only that they had long, curling golden hair that looked more like a halo. She wondered if it was an angel.

* * *

Mary Margaret shot up in bed, breathing heavily.

It was the exact same dream she had every night, and every night it ended the same, and every morning she awoke feeling like something was missing, that she desperately needed to _find _something. There was also the daily ache in her stomach and lower extremities, along with a most mysterious soreness in her breasts, but once she got up and got moving it faded, and she forgot about it until the next morning.

So, like every morning, she shook it off as best as she could and went about her day. Shower, dress, coffee, cereal, brush teeth, and out the door. It was the same old routine, but what use did she have in variety?

Her life was simple, peaceful, uncomplicated. She was content, if not happy or satisfied. But she supposed that was just life; not everyone gets a fairytale.

Every great now and then she got the inclination to do something different. Sometimes it would be something big, like leaving Storybrooke and seeing the world. Sometimes she only tried to convince herself to talk to someone in town she's never spoken to before.

But every time such a thought flew into her head, it was pushed out insistently. Her life was good. Not fulfilling, not exciting, but good. Lonely…but good. Why would she ever want to change it?

The loneliness was probably the worst to deal with. Every day she came home from work to a dark, quiet, empty apartment. No one to talk to, no one to laugh with. She could go to the diner, talk to Ruby maybe, but Ruby sort of made her nervous with how wild she was, so Mary Margaret just stayed home and read. Or sewed. Or did crafts. Or cleaned.

She had hobbies, so she wasn't dull.

The only time she felt…alive was at work. The shining eyes of those energetic children made her day. True the lessons she taught them felt repetitive, but they didn't seem to mind. And then that little boy, the mayor's son, Henry, would smile at her and she would feel warmer and more alive than ever. She didn't know what drew her to that particular boy so much, perhaps it was because he seemed as lonely as she was. That was why she gave him that book.

But no matter how happy Henry's smiles made her, no matter how good a book she read, no matter how delicious a meal she cooked herself or a cup of hot cocoa she topped with cinnamon, she would wrap up in her comfy bed on the first floor of her apartment because the second floor felt too far away and she dreamed. And the dream would eat at her and hurt her and she would start the day over feeling lost and alone.

She never knew _why _she dreamed that dream. She could never completely remember it once she was fully awakened. All she remembered was a baby, and then a room full of fire and then an angel with golden hair saving her. It was weird to say the least.

She supposed dreaming about a baby was just her biological clock ticking, perhaps even the physical ache in the mornings too, but the burning room and the angel were just confusing. She sometimes thought she'd ask Dr. Hopper about it, but she never got around to it.

* * *

The day was a long one. Though the weather outside was beautiful, and the children were in good moods, Mary Margaret felt especially empty. She wondered briefly if it was because Henry was home sick, and his smile wasn't there to brighten her day.

She was anxious to get home, maybe do some sewing, maybe just read, _something _to take her mind off of the ache. But no, she had a volunteer shift at the hospital that afternoon, and those visits usually only saddened her for some reason.

The children went out for recess, and Mary Margaret grabbed her purse, ready to go hunt down some coffee when Mayor Mills barged into the classroom. It wasn't the first time Henry's mother had done such, but it never failed to make Mary Margaret squirm in uneasiness or make her heart speed up in fear she didn't quite understand.

Mayor Mills did her usual shouting, only surprising Mary Margaret with the fact that sweet little Henry had taken one of her credit cards to find his birth mother. She wasn't angry. No, if he'd felt like he needed it that bad, then he must have.

When the mayor stomped out, angrily knocking over a stack of books in the process, she left the quiet, uncomfortable-looking woman who was apparently Henry's birth mother behind.

The woman rushed to help Mary Margaret pick up the books, apologizing even though it was no one's fault except Regina's.

Mary Margaret didn't pay her much mind until she introduced herself, and their hands bumped accidentally over a book.

"I'm Emma."

Something about the name struck something inside Mary Margaret, something she couldn't quite put a finger on, and her hand tingled where it had touched hers.

'_Goodbye, Emma…'_

She looked up sharply, noticing for the first time the golden curls that cascaded down the pretty young woman's shoulders. Eyes she could _swear _she'd seen before.

All at once Mary Margaret felt an instant liking…and instant _connection_ to this woman she just met. From the moment she heard her name, she had the strangest sensation that was like a veil was being lifted from her face, letting her see the world clearly for the first time. It was almost like everything had been in black and white, and now it was in color.

She didn't dare show that to Emma, it was odd and Emma looked uneasy enough as it was.

Her conversation with the lost, confused young mother was short, but Mary Margaret went about the rest of her day as if she'd come out of a fog.

That evening instead of eating at home alone, she went to the diner, and chatted with Ruby and her young friend, Ashley. If she didn't know better, she'd think the other two women were more lively and jovial than usual too.

* * *

The next morning she awoke, and instead of scarfing down her breakfast in the kitchen like usual, she took her normal bowl of cereal to the window to look out at the world around her, at the beautiful day dawning. Was the ocean always so blue?

Though it was hard to describe, even to herself, Mary Margaret felt like she was starting the first day of the rest of her life. She couldn't even say why. So she smiled out at town below her, wondering absently if Emma had left town yet or not, and in the back of her mind she hoped not.

Then she saw something different. It took her a long moment to be able to tell _what _was different, and then she saw it…

The clock was working.

"Has that old thing ever worked?" she wondered aloud. It was even on time.

It was definitely a new day, a better day, and that was when Mary Margaret realized something else…

For the first time that she could remember, she slept that night before without dreams.


End file.
